


and we'll meet in the sky

by elizaham8957



Series: find me here amidst the chaos [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fix It Fic, Fluff, Post S8 AU, both literally and metaphorically, dragon riding, happy endings, house with the red door, targlings, you know all the stuff these two deserved that they were denied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: A screech echoes through the sky as they reach the sand, and Dany looks up, smiling as her first child circles above, landing on the beach with a ground-shaking thud.“Drogon!” Lya and Torrhen yell, racing towards the dragon. He tosses his great head in the air, before lowering down until his head is practically resting against the sand, eyes sliding closed contently as the children stroke his snout. Jon puts Aly down as well, chuckling as she tears across the beach on her tiny legs, nearly crashing into Drogon in her eagerness.Dany’s heart hums happily as Jon takes her hand, leading her across the sand, Ghost following behind him. Seeing all her children together warms her inside, heart flooding with affection as Drogon blows hot breath at the three of them.





	and we'll meet in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends, and happy Jonerys week! 
> 
> I've been in this fandom, like, maybe two months, but I still couldn't resist writing some things for my favorite beans who deserve the world. I've got two more fics (hopefully) that will go up this week, and then maybe a sneak peek of Wild Things on Sunday, as an apology for momentarily abandoning it in favor of writing these fics (sorry not sorry!!) 
> 
> This was written for the prompt "dragons" and takes place in my happy-ending-au where Dany flies off on Drogon before burning King's Landing down and then her and Jon live happily ever after in Braavos. I don't think you need to read the two predecessors for this to make sense, but if you want to, it certainly wouldn't hurt! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this!!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146793737@N07/48124275632/in/dateposted-public/)

“I’m not sure why you’re so against this.” 

She can feel Jon sigh more than see it, his chest falling sharply below her hands. She presses her lips to his neck again, her tongue darting out to taste his warm skin, and this time when he exhales it’s more of a shudder than a sigh. 

“You know why,” he murmurs, and she hums, sliding her leg higher where it’s tangled between his. She can’t see his face, with her chest flush against his back, but she can picture the expression on his face in perfect clarity, can practically tell that his eyes have slid closed at the feel of her body pressed up so close to his. 

“She’s ten years old now, Jon,” she says, her nails raking lightly over the hard muscles of his abdomen. Her fingers catch on the scar right at the bottom of his stomach, and she nuzzles closer to him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. 

“I know that,” he says, catching her wandering fingers, pulling them up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “That doesn’t make me feel any better about it.” 

“Jon,” she says, nosing at his jaw. “This is who she is. Who  _ we  _ are. I think she’s ready.” She pouts into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin, and she can feel his pulse racing. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Dany,” he says, turning in her arms so that he’s facing her. His expression is sullen, brows furrowed together. “You know I do.” He sighs, before leaning in, capturing her lips with his. “It’s not about that, love.” 

“I know,” she says, looking away from him, a little ashamed of insinuating that he doesn’t trust her. She knows he does, more than anything. Just as she trusts him. 

He leans into her again, kissing her deeper this time, his hand cupping her jaw to tilt her head back. She sighs as his tongue slides against hers, tasting her reverently, making her heart flutter. Dany can’t help but run her hands down his chest, twining their legs together once again, fingers dancing over his hip bone, teasing him. 

“I know what you’re doing, you wicked woman,” Jon murmurs against her lips. She huffs in indignation, but she cannot fight back the smile at being caught by him. He really does know her too well. 

“And what is that?” she asks anyways, nuzzling into him, leaving a hot trail of kisses across his jawline, teeth pulling gently at his earlobe. He shudders against her again, his hands drifting lower down her bare back, cupping her arse and pulling her closer into him. Dany can feel his hard length against her belly, want flickering through her, hot as flames, at the feeling.

“You’re trying to distract me, by  _ ravishing  _ me,” he accuses, and she laughs into his neck, head dropping to his shoulder, “so that you can convince me to let our daughter ride a dragon.” 

“And do you have an issue with that?” she teases, her lips darting out to taste his skin again, loving the way he responds to her touch. 

“Not the ravishing part,” he says. “But the other, just a little.” 

She sighs, pulling back from him so that she may look her husband in his lovely eyes. “Alright,” she says, hands drifting back up, carding through his mussed curls. “Why don’t you want me to teach Lya to ride Drogon?  _ Truly.”  _

He sighs, looking away from her. “I’m nervous,” he admits, and Dany smiles at him sympathetically, her eyes fond. Sometimes she thinks back to when she had first met Jon, how stoic and somber and broody he had been. He was determined to carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders in those days, not let anyone help him, not let anyone know when he was scared or hurting on the inside. And now, here, with her, he opens up like it’s as easy as breathing. 

Dany understands that. She had been the same, for most of her life. Determined to always appear the perfect, strong leader. She had never let anyone know how alone and scared she felt most of the time. But here, with Jon, there is nothing she needs to hide from. 

“Why?” she asks, making sure to keep her tone open, not push him away by making him think he sounds silly to her. He sighs, nuzzling into her hand, his eyes sliding closed contently. 

“You know I love flying,” he says. She remains quiet, letting him gather his thoughts. “But it’s not the…  _ safest  _ thing in the world, you know. And Lya is still so small. If she fell off…” 

“I’ll be with her,” Dany promises, drawing closer to him again, fingers still playing with his curls. “You know I would never let anything happen to her.” 

“I know,” he says, eyes sliding closed contently as she smooths her fingers through his hair, like he’s a cat being petted. She can’t help the smile that creeps across her face at the sight, the warmth blossoming in her heart. Still, after all this time, the effect she has on him, and he on her, is her favorite thing. 

“I still get nervous putting her on top of a  _ horse,  _ let alone a bloody dragon,” Jon murmurs. “And I know I learned to ride when I was younger than she is now.” He opens his eyes again, and she meets his, taking in that warm, deep shade of brown that she loves so dearly. “It’s just hard for me to accept, sometimes. That she’s growing older.” 

“I know,” Dany whispers. “For me as well.” She snuggles into Jon’s chest, tucking her head below his chin. “She’s our baby. Our very first one. And she’s barely a child anymore.” 

“Don’t say that,” he whines, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She laughs, because she agrees with him. Sometimes, she thinks, if she pretends their children are not growing older, maybe they’ll stop, stay small forever. As impossible as it is, there’s still a tiny part of her that wishes they could never grow up, just stay frozen in time. 

“Alright,” Jon finally murmurs, and Dany perks up, drawing back so she can see his face. “You’ll be with her, right?” 

“Of course,” Dany promises. She’ll make sure that no harm comes to their little girl while she learns something so important to their family. To who they are.

“And you’ll make sure Drogon flies low?” 

“Yes,” she breathes into his skin. “I won’t let him take her high enough that she would get hurt, if she were to fall off. Which she won’t,” Dany assures him. 

“Okay,” he sighs, nodding his head. “I trust you, and I trust Drogon. Not that you need my permission to do anything,” he chuckles, kissing her cheek, “but you have it. You can teach her to ride him.” 

“Thank you, love,” she says, truly grateful. “And you know I wouldn’t teach her, if you truly didn’t want me to. She’s your daughter as well.” 

“I know,” he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips, small and fond and full of love. She leans in to kiss him, coaxing his lips open, shivering at the velvety heat of his mouth as her tongue meets his. 

“Now,” she whispers, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as she pulls away. “Can we get back to the ravishing part?” She grins wickedly when she feels Jon exhale sharply, her hands drifting down his chest, lower, lower, until she’s gripping his length in her hands, reveling in the shudder that runs through his body at her touch. “I’d like to ride a dragon of my own.” 

“Fucking hell,” Jon moans, as she pushes him to his back, tossing a leg over him so that she’s straddling his hips. Her hands trace up his chest, her elbows hitting the pillow beside his head, leaning over to draw his lips into a bruising, messy kiss. He looks a little dazed when she pulls away, but then she flips her hair over her shoulder, no longer obstructing his view of the rest of her body, and his gaze turns predatory, the beast below appearing. Whether it is a wolf or a dragon, she does not care. She loves him dearly just the same. 

“I swear to the gods, Dany,” Jon groans, his eyes sliding closed as she grinds her hips into his. “You’re going to be the death of me.” His hands shoot up, seizing her breasts, and now it’s  _ her  _ turn to moan wantonly, arching back in pleasure as his fingers rub over the stiff peaks. 

“Mmm,” she murmurs, losing herself in the feel of his touch, before she meets his eye again, grinning like a beast teasing its prey. “But what a sweet way to go it will be.” 

***

“Papa.” 

Dany squeezes her eyes closed tighter, hoping the voice she heard is just a dream. But then it echoes again, more insistent this time. 

_ “Papa.”  _

She feels Jon move next to her, grumbling sleepily as he awakens, and she misses his touch the second he withdraws his large, warm hand from where it had been resting on her hip, rolling to face away from her. 

“Aly,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “What are you doin’ up, love? It’s early still.” 

“It’s morning,” she argues back. “The sun’s awake, and so are the birds.” Dany tries not to laugh at their daughter’s logic, drawing her toes up Jon’s calf instead, tangling their legs back together.

“Even so,” Jon says. “You know the rule, don’t you?” 

Dany can hear her youngest daughter sigh, even as she burrows deeper into the covers. “No going in your room before you and Mama are awake.” Dany smiles, drawing closer to her husband; with her eyes still closed, she nudges against the flat planes of his back with her nose, leaving warm kisses along his spine, making him shiver. There’s a reason they have that rule, and that reason is how many times Lya nearly caught them in  _ very  _ compromising positions before she was even three years old. 

“Aye,” Jon says, his voice beginning to lose the huskiness of lingering sleep. “And yet, here you are.” 

“I know,” Alysanne says, her tiny voice sounding so sad that Dany wants to swoop over and smother her youngest daughter in kisses. “But I missed you, Papa.” 

Dany smiles to herself, because she knows that those words alone will be all that’s needed to melt Jon. 

Sure enough, she feels the bed shift below her as Jon sits up, and her hand flies to her chest, making sure the covers are still pulled high enough to hide her naked body from their four year old. Aly giggles as her father grabs her, pulling her up onto the bed and into his lap, holding her against his bare chest. 

“I missed you too, my little dragon,” he murmurs, and Dany blearily opens one eye, just in time to see Jon press a kiss to their daughter’s mess of moonbeam curls. Alysanne’s hair may have the color of her mother’s, but her curls are all Jon’s, as wild and unruly as the North itself. Their daughter giggles, grabbing Jon’s face in her tiny hands, and he ducks closer so that she can bump her nose against his. “Still, you have to follow the rules, love. They’re there for a reason.” 

Aly pouts, letting go of Jon’s face. “What’s the reason for  _ this  _ one?” she demands, and  _ gods,  _ Dany can’t help but think how much her daughter sounds like  _ her  _ in moments like this. 

Jon exhales, and Dany almost laughs, because she’s sure he’s trying to come up with a better answer than  _ because your mother and I spend more time fucking each other senseless than actually sleeping, and we don’t want to traumatize you and your siblings.  _ “Your mum and I need our rest, sweet, or we’d be too tired to chase you around all day,” he manages. Alysanne seems convinced by this answer, squirming in Jon’s arms until she can drape her little arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. It melts Dany’s heart, seeing the two of them together, Jon stroking her back fondly as she curls into her father. She turns away from them, keeping her eyes closed, as to not alert her daughter she’s awake and ruin this precious moment between her and Jon. 

“Are your brother and sister up yet?” Jon asks, and Aly shakes her head no. “Well,” Jon says, shifting Alysanne in his arms. “Mum has a surprise planned for today.” Dany smiles at the sound of her daughter’s gasp, and she can picture her brown eyes widening with excitement. 

“But you have to have all your chores done first, alright? So go get your siblings up, and once you’re done, we’ll all go to the beach.” 

“Okay!” Alysanne says, and before Dany can even blink, the little girl is scrambling down from their bed, racing out of the room, the door swinging closed behind her. Jon chuckles lowly, before reclining back in bed and rolling towards her, his arms snaking around Dany’s body to pull her back to his chest. 

“That was some fast thinking, with the rules,” she murmurs, arching back into him, shivering with delight as he presses soft kisses to her shoulder, to her neck. 

“Aye,” he responds, his chuckle reverberating through her body. His hands creep higher, one of them covering her breast, kneading, and she shivers in his arms, moaning softly at the feel of his fingertips against her delicate skin. “Well, I didn’t exactly want to explain the real reason to her.” 

“Yes, let’s not traumatize her quite yet,” she agrees, pressing backwards into him, delighting in his groan as her arse grinds against his hips. 

“You have to stop it, love,” Jon says, placing a lingering kiss to the underside of her jaw, his fingers still trailing across her skin heatedly. She can feel him beginning to grow hard, and she revels in how much he wants her. “If you keep at that, I’m not going to be able to help myself.” 

“Maybe that’s my plan,” she teases, and he sighs shakily, as if every ounce of self control he has is going towards  _ not  _ rolling her underneath him and taking her right then. Knowing him, Dany thinks it probably is.

“Unfortunately, our children are awake now,” he murmurs in her ear. “And if we don’t go out there in the next five minutes, they’ll probably find a way to burn the house to the ground.” 

Dany sighs, knowing that he’s right. She loves her children more than anything— they are her miracles, the loves of her life— but they are also downright terrors sometimes. 

“Alright,” Dany agrees, twisting in his arms so that she can kiss him properly, his tongue in her mouth sending one last thrill through her. “Later, though, we’ll pick up where we left off.” 

“I look forward to it,” Jon whispers, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth playfully, just like the wolf he is. 

The house, miraculously, is not burned to the ground by the time they emerge from their room, fully dressed. The eggs from the hens are already collected, in a basket on the table, and Dany can see the three children out in the yard, sprinting through the rest of their chores as Ghost watches from the middle of the sunny pasture.

“We should tell them you have surprises planned more often,” Jon says, looping his arms around her waist as they watch the children through the window, before he drops a kiss on her cheek, turning towards the kitchen to prepare them all breakfast. 

It’s not even midday when Dany finds herself picking her way down the bluffs, Jon holding a squirming Alysanne in his arms as he follows behind her so that their youngest doesn’t fall on the steep slope. Lyrianna and Torrhen lead their parents down to the sandy shores, Ghost bringing up the rear. A screech echoes through the sky as they reach the sand, and Dany looks up, smiling as her first child circles above, landing on the beach with a ground-shaking  _ thud.  _

“Drogon!” Lya and Torrhen yell, racing towards the dragon. He tosses his great head in the air, before lowering down until his head is practically resting against the sand, eyes sliding closed contently as the children stroke his snout. Jon puts Aly down as well, chuckling as she tears across the beach on her tiny legs, nearly crashing into Drogon in her eagerness. 

Dany’s heart hums happily as Jon takes her hand, leading her across the sand, Ghost following behind him. Seeing all her children together warms her inside, heart flooding with affection. However, there is a twinge of sadness, watching Lya and Torrhen giggle as Drogon blows hot breath at them. 

Her life here is perfect, and she loves it dearly. But still, there is not a day that passes where she does not mourn for Viserion and Rhaegal. 

Jon seems to sense what she’s thinking, drawing her into him, pressing a kiss to her temple. Her eyes slide closed, the heavy ache in her heart lifting a little at the warmth of his body against hers. 

“Lya,” she says finally, stepping closer to her children, kneeling on the ground next to them as they stroke Drogon’s snout. Her eldest daughter turns to her, and Dany smiles, smoothing a loose curl back into her brown braid. 

“How would you like to learn to ride Drogon, like Papa and I do?” she asks, and Lya’s jaw drops, those eyes that mirror Dany’s exactly going wide. 

“Really?” she asks, a wide grin stretching across her face as Dany nods.

“Really,” she assures her daughter. “I think you’re old enough to learn, now.” Lya practically vibrates with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Dany stands, leading her to Drogon’s side. Her son seems to understand what’s happening, because he leans down farther than he typically would, the edges of his wings digging into the sand. 

“Papa,” Torrhen pouts, looking up at Jon with a sullen, broody pout that matches his father’s  _ exactly.  _ “I want to ride too.” 

“You will, when you’re older,” Jon says, ruffling his son’s raven curls. “Mum will teach you all to ride one day, I promise. But today it’s Lya’s turn.” 

_ “Gaomagon daor maghagon zirȳla ōdrikagon,  _ Drogon,” Dany says quietly, hand pressed against her son’s head.  _ “Issa iēdrosa byka.”  _ He purrs below her hand, and Dany knows that he understands. 

“Lya, are you ready?” she asks her daughter, and her smile is wide as she nods, eyes shining brighter than the sun. Jon comes over, letting Dany climb on first, showing Lya where to put her feet to scale Drogon’s scaly hide, before he helps their daughter up after her mother, a hand on her back to make sure she does not fall. 

“Sit right in front of mum, love,” Jon says, stepping away once Lya has scrambled up. “Be careful, alright?” 

“Here, sweet,” Dany says, helping guide one of her daughter’s legs to the other side of Drogon’s spine. “Hold on right here, okay? Nice and tight. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt him.” 

Drogon exhales below them, his head twisting to survey the little girl on his back, and Lya giggles at him, hands still tight on his fringe. “Are you ready?” Dany asks, her hands finding a place to hold as well, caging her daughter in to keep her safe. Lya nods, her expression determined, not a hint of fear in her wide blue eyes. 

“Alright, then,” Dany says, grinning to herself, excitement beginning to course through her veins. “Tell him the word, then. You remember how to say it?” 

Lya just nods again, eyes fixed on the dragon’s, before she says, “Drogon,  _ sōves.”  _

Dany has only a moment to preen at her daughter’s perfect pronunciation before Drogon is roaring, spreading his wings wide and leaping into the sky. 

Lya shrieks with laughter as they become airborne, and Dany tightens her grip on her daughter, the little girl’s brown braid almost whipping her in the face with the wind rushing towards them. Drogon keeps low to the water while his newest passenger adjusts to the sensation of flying, spray from the sea making Dany’s skin dewey. Lya just looks on, awestruck, before Drogon rises higher into the sky, soaring over the bluffs in lazy circles. 

There is nothing in the world like flying, Dany thinks. It’s a sensation unlike anything else in her life— the feeling of being completely free, soaring miles above the world, the cities and villages below as small as doll’s furniture, the view hazy from the clouds her son swoops through. The feeling of the wind on her face as she watches the world slide by below her is something that will never be contested. 

She can tell Lya feels the same way, her daughter’s smile painfully wide as they soar over their house, Lya laughing in delight at how small the cows and the lemon trees look— practically little specks, dots of white and green against the pasture. Dany tightens her grip around Lya as she urges Drogon higher, higher, until their house is almost invisible. The air is colder up here, but it’s worth it for the moment they break through the clouds, the sun sparkling above the sea of white cotton below them, hiding them above in their own world. 

_ We are Targaryens, and this is where we belong,  _ she thinks, as Drogon soars above the clouds. 

They do not ride for much longer— just long enough to give Lya a taste, to show her what dragons truly mean for her family. All too soon, Drogon is touching down on the beach again, sand spraying as his great talons dig into the shore, her other two children racing back to his side immediately. 

Jon is there in an instant, giving Drogon a pat on the snout with practiced ease before he lifts his hands up, helping Lya down. Dany dismounts by herself, gracefully climbing back down to stand before her husband and children, Drogon purring as Alysanne and Torrhen stroke his side. 

“Did you have fun?” Jon asks, setting Lya down on the sand. She nods, her smile so wide that it makes Dany’s heart squeeze. 

“What was it like, Lya?” Torrhen asks, turning away from Drogon. Lya smiles again, her eyes getting wistful.

“It was like magic. Like I was a bird, flying in the sky,” she says, before turning to Dany. “Mama, when can I ride him again?” 

Dany laughs, petting her daughter’s hair back. “Soon, love. I’ll show you more. And then you’ll be able to ride him all by yourself.” 

Lya’s eyes go wide. “Really?” Dany just nods, crouching down next to her, so their eyes are level. 

“Of course,” Dany tells her, dropping a kiss on her nose. “You were excellent up there, love. I’m sure you’ll be soaring through the skies by yourself in no time.” 

Lya’s smile is dazzling as she throws her arms around Dany, squeezing her mother tight. She returns the hug, holding her baby girl close, her heart feeling like it may burst with all the affection filling it. 

“You’re a natural, Lya,” Jon says, picking a squirming Alysanne up, holding her on his hip so that she cannot annoy Drogon  _ too  _ much. He turns to Dany, his lovely eyes overflowing with admiration. “You must get it from your mother.” 

“Well, it’s certainly not from you,” Dany teases, grinning as she turns to Lya. “You should have seen your father the first time he rode a dragon.  _ Nowhere  _ near as graceful.” 

Jon huffs, looking like he wants to argue back, but then Drogon is screeching again, soaring back up into the sky. The children all ignore their parents as they tear across the sand after him, Alysanne practically jumping out of Jon’s arms, Ghost following behind the three of them dutifully.

“I seem to remember my first dragon ride being much more intense than that one,” Jon mutters, taking Dany’s hand in his. She smiles softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek comfortingly. 

“Yes, I didn’t tell Rhaegal to go easy on you, like I just did Drogon.” 

He narrows his eyes at her, but she can see he’s teasing, in the way he tries not to show her the smile he’s biting back. “Did you care so little for my safety?” 

“I had seen you do much more reckless things than ride a dragon by then,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “You always survived.” Dany leans into him, letting her head drop to his shoulder. “And on the contrary. I cared for you very much at that time.” 

Jon turns to her, a hand coming to play with a loose curl, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone reverently. There’s a little smile tugging at his lips, one that melts her heart completely. “You did?” he asks, and it’s like he still cannot believe that she cares for him, loves him dearly, even after all this time. She understands the feeling— sometimes, this life they have here together, the love between them, seems too sweet to truly be real. 

“I did,” she tells him, one hand raising to cup his jaw, lower his face so she may rest her forehead against his. “I still do now.” 

“And I you,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against hers, and she rises to meet his lips, kissing him slowly and deeply, pouring all the love she feels for him into it. 

“So,” Jon says, voice low and husky as they pull away. She raises an eyebrow at him, telling him to go on. “You’re teaching Lya to ride Drogon,” he continues. “When do I get to show Torrhen how to swing a sword?” 

“Oh, gods,” Dany says, fear crashing over her at the thought of their baby boy wielding Longclaw like Jon does. Jon chuckles lowly, seeming to sense her fear, same as his for Lya riding a dragon. 

But she trusts him. Just as he trusts her. And though she wishes that she could protect her children from the world forever, she knows she cannot. So they will teach them to be fearless, and courageous. To ride dragons and fight like true warriors, just as their parents did, in what seems to be another lifetime. 

“I’m not sure,” Dany says, drawing in closer to Jon. She rises on her tiptoes, pressing her body up against his completely, one leg wedging between his own. There is no room left between them as she snakes a hand into his hair, tugging his head down towards her so her teeth graze the shell of his ear. “That may take some  _ convincing, _ on your part.” 

Jon chuckles, the sound low and lusty, his hands grabbing the flesh of her arse possessively. He pulls her in for another kiss, searing and passionate, his clever tongue against hers almost making her knees weak. 

He pulls away, gives her one last smile, his eyes gleaming in that way that makes her heart pound faster than when she soars through the clouds on Drogon. “I think I can live with that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The Valyrian: Be careful with her, she’s still small


End file.
